In The Shadows Of His Mind
by Crystalline618
Summary: AU. Talon is nothing more than a tool to the Court, his past a mystery to all but the higher ups, even to Talon himself. When he slits throats at night, he wishes for nothing more than to find out. Enter Batman, who ambushes Talon on a mission and allows him to stay and recover. Can Batman see behind the golden eyes and empty smile? Talon!Dick, Pre-YJ
1. Prologue

**Here's the Talon!Dick story I promised. It's set two years before the show, which means Dick's eleven. I'll explain some confusing things at the end. Also, I'm a broke kid and my only Court of Owls info source is Wikipedia, so if someone could lend me something, that would be great.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own YJ or Batman!**

* * *

A boy dressed in gleaming black and silver armor with a bird-like cowl, holding a jagged dagger, was sprinting across the rooftops of Gotham. He had a goal to complete, a mission.

He was careful to avoid the Bat's usual routes and steered clear of any noise. He jumped into a house, cutting out the glass on the window and his footsteps silent. He tiptoed through the house until he saw his victim, lying in a bed. _Easy prey_ , he thought, before a twinge of guilt resurfaced. It always did. No alarms blared as he slit the throat of a man whose name he did not know, did not remember. The blood trailed down his victim's neck.

He ran back to the Court in long, fast bounds. Anyone who may have felt a rush of wind turned back to see nothing, shrugged, and assumed it was just a gust.

But it wasn't. The boy knew that better than anyone. As he tumbled through Gotham's rough streets, the hostile night air seemed to mock him. As much as he loved seeing the outside, he'd finished his job and had to head back to the Court as soon as possible. His Masters were counting on it.

 _Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all of time._

The familiar and haunting rhyme replayed in his head.

 _Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime._

He hated it. He hated the very idea of it. What happened to freedom?

 _They watch at your hearth; they watch you at your bed._

Which was, generally, true. The Court had whispered around him, not thinking he'd understand, about some people who weren't abiding by the Court's Gotham. He pretended not to notice when the names popped up again at night - when he was told his orders, who to assassinate.

 _Speak not a whispered word of them…_

He fought the urge to choke.

 _...or they'll send the Talon for your head._

* * *

Blank masks; blank faces. Droning on his orders, then 'putting him to sleep' in the freezing, biting, stinging cryopod. The Court of Owls.

Talon wasn't sure what he expected when he returned every night. Praise? Gentle touches? The occasional warm bed? None of which were given. Talon was simply summoned as soon as he walked inside the door, bowed, presented his knife to his Masters (because they couldn't have a rogue Talon, now could they?), and was ushered away to his cryopod.

Tonight, though? Tonight was strange. The head Talon - Cobb, Talon thought he heard the Court calling him? - usually took him to the pod chamber (as Talon dubbed it) but today, a dusty mahogany door was opened to reveal a… bedroom?

Talon inhaled sharply. The white bed had covers and blankets and pillows and it would be so comfy and warm… There was a bedside table. An aroma drifted off of it. Food? There was an IV in the cryopod that gave him nutrients. "The Court has an important task for you tomorrow," Head Talon explained. "The briefing is in the drawer."

Talon dare not touch it yet, running and flopping onto the bed as soon as the door was closed. He'd never felt anything this comfortable since… since…

He sighed in exasperation. He couldn't remember anything about his past, not since he walked out of the room that fateful day. He didn't try to find out, either. Whatever he did, it was bad enough that he had the amnesia ever since. He remembered crackles and wires from the room, but that was it.

The Court never taught him how to speak again. Talon supposed it was for the best. After all, the Court was filled with his caretakers, they had to know what was best for him.

The assassin was no fool. He knew that the Court was sending him to enact death sentences. It never sat right in his stomach, but what would he do otherwise? He was a monster, he was a freak of nature. He had regenerative capabilities, enhanced senses, strength, speed, you name it. He'd even heard once that Talons were immortal. He never took off his uniform, but he bet the form underneath was grotesque. He couldn't even talk.

He knew. He was a tool. He would be discarded, like the Talons before him, only to be used again in a time of crisis. When Talon was younger (younger, how old was he? How many days had it been? At the very least, a year, he thought), he'd panicked at the thought of being thrown away, of not being of use, and just wasting air. He calmed since then. It wouldn't be for a while now. He was still young.

The Court's Talon closed his eyes. It was time for a long, overdue rest.

* * *

 **Whew, prologue! That was difficult. I've never done one of those. Plus, (gah) so much exposition. So lil' Dickie's lost his memories, from being tortured into obedience, thinks he's worthless as a person and can't speak. (By the way, if you were confused about that, I realized early into planning that Dick would just pick up the words like an infant, so I gave him apraxia of speech/motor speech disorder. Essentially, his brain has errors in sounding out what he wants to say. He could know he wants to say Talon, for instance, and it wouldn't register in the parts of the brain that are connected to speech. Best yet (...or not), it can be caused by brain damage, so it's a possibility. If I make any mistakes in how I portray him, please point them out)**

 **ANYWAYS, this idea started as a YJ!Villain AU, so there's one other character that's going to be a villain (ish? Catwoman like?) in this story: Wally. With the Rogues, as you can expect.**

 **Next up: the (dun dun dun) special mission. I'll try to update around every other week.**

 **Please read and review, with constructive feedback.**

 **P.S. Someone do me a favor and recommend good YJ/Batman fics? I'm running out of things to binge read.**


	2. Chapter One: The Fateful Mission

**Disclaimer: I don't own YJ!**

* * *

Talon blinked blearily and very nearly panicked, not in his cryopod, not falling out to do a job for the Court. But he remained silent. _Briefings._ He had to check the briefings.

Inside the middle drawer on the bed stand (he'd worry about the food later) was a pair of gauntlets. Black, lined with gold, and had a single square silver touchpad. Talon pressed the touchpad.

A holographic screen popped up with information. He was getting… a partner. A partner from Central City. A teenaged (was Talon a teenager?) supervillain under the name of Dart. Why did he need a partner? Some of his old fears bubbled up again. Was he getting too old? Too rusty? Did he outlive his purpose? He shook his head. _Only the Court ever has use of me,_ he reminded himself. _I should be grateful._

He read on (he forgot how to speak, but remembered how to read?). Dart was actually a boy, thirteen years of age, named Wallace Rudolph "Wally" West. He was the youngest member of the Rogues and among the unpowered. On the streets as early as eleven, the Rogues took him in and found he had a penchant for zipping away and, after some training, aiming.

Dart. It was a fitting name. Suited his skills, like Talon did his. But there was the more human name, Wally. Once Talon saw a picture of the ginger in civilian clothing, Wally fit too.

* * *

"Hi…?" Wally said to the blank, white mask. He bit back a groan. _I'm so going to kill James for landing us in this kind of debt._

"Dart," the masked person greeted coldly. "I presume you are ready for the task?"

He grinned, puffing out his chest with pride. "No one steals better than a Rogue!"

He felt as if the masked person was frowning. "We shall see. The Talon shall arrive shortly."

"The Talon? Whoa, whoa, wait. I can do this on my own." Wally crossed his arms.

"Debatable. You have never operated in Gotham before." The white mask stared at him, and Wally already felt himself giving way.

A young boy entered, one that couldn't be a day over ten. _He_ was the experienced Talon that was to accompany him?

"Talon," Mask Person commanded sharply, "you are to return before daylight tomorrow. Understood?"

The Talon nodded, his golden goggles doing a terrible job of masking his glance to Wally. Wally shivered. How could someone that young look so emotionless?

He shook off the feeling. Talon was his partner. He should get to know him. Wally ran up to Talon. "Hihihi there! I'm Wally, aka Dart. You're Talon, I know." He stopped. Talon just kinda… stood there, the goggles fixated on him. "Uh… you can speak now?"

Talon's handler (dressed in similar gear) replied gruffly, "Talon doesn't speak. He wasn't trained to and it's not a necessary skill."

Wally felt his lips curling down. "But talking-"

"Enough," the original Mask Person said. "I expect the Talon back before dawn."

Wally could scream and shout for hours the things that seemed wrong with this one encounter. But the Rogues were counting on him to get through this so they could be done with the Court of Owls (honestly, Wally couldn't agree more) so he walked out the door, as mute as the Talon beside him.

* * *

Talon was crouched in an alley outside the museum, using his gauntlets to hack into some security feeds. He idly wondered how numbers were that much easier to process than words. Dart - or Wally, as he introduced himself - was crouching to his left.

"Talon," Dart hissed. "Psst, Talon!" Talon looked up. "What's your real name?"

 _Talon?_ he wanted to reply, but his lips stubbornly refused to form the word. He turned his head down to resume scanning for information.

"Right, you don't speak. Forgot," Dart babbled. "They didn't teach you. But! You can probably write, so." Dart ran off and returned with pen and paper. "Here. I really want to know what you're like, so please please please consider telling me your real name?"

Talon hastily scribbled - in atrocious handwriting. He barely had the muscle memory for it - an answer down. He continued his work, not checking to see Dart's reaction. It most likely wouldn't be pleasant, anyways.

"You don't know any name other than Talon?" Talon snuck a peek at Dart's expression. The redhead looked horrified. "They… how long…?"

Did Talon trust Dart quite enough to reveal that he has no memories other than of Talon? Dart was a peculiar person. He talked and talked to a pointless degree but he sounded caring. Was it all a facade? Was this intentional? Would his Masters approve? Did his Masters even care?

Deciding Dart was too genuine to be lying, Talon wrote, 'I don't know. I have amnesia, before some years ago is nothing.'

Dart tensed. Talon put his guard up, just in case. "Gah, I just- do you even know how old you are?" Talon shook his head. "They're robbing you of a childhood. This isn't right." Dart seemed to have some experience with the subject.

Talon raised an eyebrow, the Kevlar of his mask being lifted up. Dart groaned. "Yeah, I know, not the best example, but the Rogues take care of me. We have this family thing going on, then there's my uncle if I ever- wait, too much."

Talon stumbled upon a file with the security guards schedules. He pressed his finger to his mask and pointed it to the holographic screen, scanning it himself. He quickly zeroed in on a weak spot. Between 11:45 and 12:15pm, all the guards were on break. The thirty minutes in between was more than ample time to steal the small stash of xenothium in the vault. Why the Court needed xenothium, he didn't know, but he did his work like a good Talon.

"Sweet!" Dart cheered. "That's settled then. No need to watch and keep track of guards. Can you play a loop on the security feed? If you can't, I can, but if you can, we're golden." Talon nodded. "But… it's still six. We need to spend five hours somehow." Dart tapped his foot rapidly. If Talon didn't know better, he would almost mistake Dart for a speedster. "Oh! Ice cream!"

Ice cream?

* * *

Trying to get Talon into civilian clothes was harder than Wally thought it would. Turns out he'd never taken off his uniform in the years he remembered. It made his blood boil.

In one of those private family restrooms, Talon was slowly, _slowly_ stripping in front of him. If it was anyone else, he'd mind, but Talon seemed like such a broken, vulnerable kid, it didn't matter.

Wally stole some civvies from a local Macy's, just green tee, baggy jeans, and a black jacket, but the problem wasn't the clothes, it seemed. It was how many darn layers was put into the Talon uniform.

The goggles were easy to take off, showing brilliant gold eyes, probably mutated. But the rest of it… did they expect Talon to run through the battlefield headfirst with bullets flying? He clenched his fist while Talon was struggling to get the full face mask off.

He'd never thought it possible before, but the Court was worse than Rudy. He had to get Talon out of there, somehow.

* * *

Sitting at a table in the ice cream shop, Talon dipped his spoon into the frosty treat. He felt self-conscious in these thin clothes; what if there was an attack right this second? He took a miniscule bite of the creamy white semi-liquid thing on his spoon. His eyes (currently covered by… sunglasses, Dart said they were) widened. 'I like this,' he wrote on their notepad.

Dart was smugly grinning. "I knew you would. No one doesn't."

'So… the plan?'

"Let's not talk about that here," Dart said, rushed, hushed. "People could overhear. We could fail, if that happens."

Talon froze. _If I fail, what would the Court do? Would I be in that pod for centuries?_ 'Not failing seems like a good option,' he wrote numbly.

Dart snickered. "Yeah. No kidding. And it would only take about an hour," - a bell chimed and two black-haired people with blue eyes walked in, one wearing a frame with glass over his eyes. For some reason, Dart's eyes brightened - "to discuss the plan, so we still have about four hours _until we steal the xenothium at the museum."_

Talon's brow furrowed. 'Quieter, thought you said people could hear us.'

"Whoops," Dart laughed. "Silly me. Didn't realize I was talking that loud." His eyes strayed to the now empty bowl. "Want me to get you another? There's lots of different flavors, so you'll never get bored." Talon nodded fervently, and Dart left for a few minutes, carrying a bowl of a light green cream, dotted with brown.

Talon ate the 'mint chocolate chip' ice cream with a smile. Dart's presence was the most enjoyment he'd felt in the time he remembered. He almost didn't want to go back to the Court when this was over.

With a startle, he snapped out of the thought. "Hey, Talon, you okay?" Dart asked, concerned. Talon nodded with a weak grin (it was nearly foreign to his face muscles).

He played a stream of thoughts like a mantra, as he always had. _Only the Court has use of me. I should be grateful. I will return to them when the mission is over._

Somehow, it didn't seem as comforting as it had in years past.

* * *

All fun had to end sometime. The four hours with Dart - Wally, he'd reminded Talon to refer to him as - were a blur, the best he'd had in a while. But currently, he was leaping through the museum, the security systems off and the feed on a loop, with Wally's help.

Somersaulting to a stop at the vault, Wally appeared beside him a second later, panting slightly. He brought out a thin blade-like object and inserted it into the lock on the vault. It clicked and Wally went on to dismantle and rewire a keypad. His partner gestured to Talon.

Talon cautiously pushed the door open, his eyes instantly adjusting to the dark. He looked around for the xenothium, when-

"Crap! Talon! Run!"

He made the mistake of turning back. A bulky figure dressed in black armor and a pointy-eared cowl was holding Wally by his ankles. The Bat of Gotham. Talon ran headfirst back into the vault.

He heard Batman wrapping Wally up in rope, and then footsteps. Quicker. Talon used every ounce of strength he had to roll underneath Batman and escape.

Wally was wriggling around, tied and gagged. After a moment's consideration, Talon dragged Wally with him. He was definitely more sluggish, carrying around a body, but it was worth it.

 _Or not,_ came to his mind when Batman's glove landed on his shoulder. He felt the Kevlar-covered fingers running over his neck while he so desperately kicked his legs in an attempt to get free.

 _No._ He and Wally had rushed to put his mask back on, and it showed. The Bat found a spot that Talon hadn't noticed, one where the cowl hadn't completely connected to the armor. Batman stuck something sharp into his neck. _Needle - a sedative,_ Talon realized as his body slacked and his eyes closed.

* * *

 **I was trying to get to 3000 words, I swear. Thought this would be the chapter I reached that. Well, I can always try next time. Yes, Wally was abused in this story, and was rescued by the Rogues, and he does know Batman's identity. More on that in a later chapter, though.**

 **Also, WHOA. Story favorites and follows! I tell my cousin now she hasn't LIVED until she knows what it's like to get that kind of anonymous recognition for your work. Not even performing gives me that kind of rush! From here on out, I'll probably be needing a beta reader, so if someone could offer their services, I'd be extremely grateful. Won't deter me from posting new chapters, but they'll be a lot sloppier.**

 **Please read and review!**


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